Major Liberal Media Outlet Now Promotes Book For Women Engaging In Sex With Fish

In June 2017, Salon.com published an article saying that bestiality is normal and people should try it.

Now, the liberal Huffington Post is promoting women having sex with fish. According to a new book they have high reviews for, “The Pisces” it is about a lascivious woman who is tired of men and wants attention and affection so she turns to ‘torrid love affair’ with a fish:

Time for the easiest game of “if you loved this movie, read this book” ever: If you loved “The Shape of Water,” a movie about fish sex, you should definitely read The Pisces by Melissa Broder, a book about fish sex. The cover literally shows a woman in an amorous clinch with a fish; the novel actually tells the story of a woman who has a torrid love affair with a merman.

Now, one fish-fucking opus in the space of a year might be a blip. Two seems very much like a trend. (We might even call it three, considering last summer’s Made for Love by Alissa Nutting, in which a male romance scammer, after a fantastical sea-bathing accident, becomes exclusively attracted to dolphins. Though, to be clear, dolphins are not fish.)

So what’s going on here? One can never discount the ongoing power of “The Little Mermaid” in the American cultural imagination, sure. Who among us could claim to be immune to the charms of Ariel and/or her buff dad, King Triton? Plus, the past five years have seen the release of not one, but two documentaries about humans who had sexual relationships with dolphins back in the ’60s and ’70s, perhaps reintroducing the idea of aquatic sex with nonhumans into artists’ minds.

But The Pisces and Guillermo del Toro’s Oscar-winning “The Shape of Water” also seem to have arrived during an inflection point for heterosexual relations, as some straight women have thrown their hands up in despair at the prospect of dealing with straight men. These men, who grope us and talk down to us and consistently fail to clean the bathroom ― we’re supposed to make lives with them? Let them touch us?

Women woke up one day to find that their husbands voted for Donald Trump and their sons have been shitposting on incel boards. Even before we heard the claims about Harvey Weinstein’s history of sexual harassment and assault and the ensuing avalanche of other horrifying Me Too allegations, we heard about our president grabbing women “by the pussy,” Bill Cosby feeding women roofies, and R. Kelly allegedly sexually exploiting young girls. So many straight men, we have been forced to accept, are bad to and for us. Why would we take the enormous risk of loving one of them?

And yet, straight women do have desires. Cutting men out of our lives isn’t a simple proposition. As satisfying as the concept of going “Lysistrata” until men get their house in order might be, that strategy also requires straight women to deny their sexual urges. The handsome prince (or film star, or cowboy, or doctor) of our imagination has been exposed as a dangerous fraud, but we still need some form of romantic hope and sexual release. One seductive yet impossible fantasy might be the romantic attention of a man who lacks the exhausting baggage of male entitlement.

To find such a fantastical being, women ― in fiction, at least ― have turned to the sea.

Lucy, the protagonist of The Pisces, is newly single, running out of time to finish her dissertation, and spiraling out of control. (That Lucy’s dissertation focuses on Sappho, whose poetry explores eroticism of a non-heteronormative, female-centered bent, is in itself telling.) Not long after breaking up with her longtime boyfriend, she becomes obsessed with getting him back; unfortunately, he’s quickly gotten another girlfriend. Her ensuing freakout features Ambien, doughnuts and an unprovoked physical assault on her ex.

So she takes two steps to address the situation: She heads to Venice Beach for the summer to dog-sit for her sister and brother-in-law, and she starts attending group therapy for love and sex addiction. (The latter step is court-mandated, due to the aforementioned violence.)

Despite the therapy sessions, Lucy can’t stop searching for male attention to restore her sense of desirability and worth. Before each encounter with a prospect, she feels buoyant and eager, but again and again, she’s left sexually and emotionally unfulfilled, in part because the men don’t much care whether she’s enjoying herself.

One man she meets on an app ― a hot younger dude in an open relationship ― convinces her to have sex with him in the lobby bathroom of an upscale hotel. It’s quick and mediocre. She doesn’t come. Afterward, he leaves without telling her, stranding her alone at the hotel bar. Lucy thought the encounter would be something different, that it would make her feel deliriously sexy and desired. She tries not to let herself feel sad about how transparently he was using her to fulfill his fantasy while her own went entirely ignored. What she wants is for even this one-time fling to care desperately about making her come, for his world to narrow around her pleasure, even for just a few minutes.

“I knew that what I wanted was something that couldn’t exist,” she thinks. “But that didn’t mean it wasn’t something I wanted.”

When she begins to fall for Theo, a tautly handsome swimmer she keeps seeing in the ocean near her sister’s beachside home, it seems like she may have found the something that couldn’t exist. Theo looks decades younger than her, but he is fascinated by her. He seeks her out, pulling up by the rocks at the edge of the beach to talk with her night after night. He wants to kiss her, then give her oral sex for hours under the stars. Soon, she learns that there’s a reason he initially stayed submerged from the waist down during their encounters: He’s what we might call a merman, and instead of legs he has a scaly tail.

Like the creature in “The Shape of Water,” Theo seems to be an exception to the rule of toxic straight maleness. Where other men hurt, threaten and betray, these unhuman beings pleasure, console and conspire with women. (source)

This reminds me of the 1982 John Carpenter cult classic “The Thing“, where a group of scientists in Antarctica unfreeze and have to battle a terrifying alien creature that invades their bodies and mutates into all kinds of horrible creatures, and the only way they can find to destroy the creature is to burn it with flamethrowers.

The emergence of narratives in society promoting and bragging about bestiality, homosexuality, and all kinds of other unnatural, perverted, and evil abuses is similar to this “alien” thing. They are destroying the world and the human race all in the name of perverted self interest.

There is a reason people say “kill it with fire.”

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